Tides of Heaven
by FlightofFancy87
Summary: SEQUAL to A Thousand and One Dreams. Now in London,the lovers step forward into a new life. Yet perfection does not grace those who once tread through hell with the torture of a bad conscience.


**Note from Author: This is the Sequel to 'A Thousand and one Dreams' and I hope you enjoy it as much as you seemed to of the first. I will update when I can, and please review. Thanks to all those who gave me great crits and support when writing my first fan fiction, it made it all the more worth while. Xxx**

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The night had been a horrid grey, cast in a dull moonlight that was dimmed by the sickly clouds which half heartily sprayed the cobbled streets of London with drizzle. Against window panes, the rain sounded distant to all those inside, and those lucky enough to be sat near a warm crackling fire would have been none the wiser to the miserable weather of autumn.

It was through this rain that a man hurriedly paced through the streets, clear on his destination, choosing that on foot he would arrive sooner. It was as far true, as the man took a corner which caused him to speed up, as his destination arrived just in front of him. It was the luminous building of the London Opera House in Convent Garden. It seemed to sit perfectly content in its dismal surroundings, offering warmth and light all that passed close enough, or those privileged to make it inside.

It was at this building that the man in the top hat, carrying a large bag was escorted quickly into the building. He was taken quickly to the dormitories, where, through a large number of corridors, he finally came to what he had been called for.

A woman, or even a young lady of around 19 to 20, her auburn curls spread over the bed she was lying on, was gasping in sharp pain. The sweat dripped from her forehead as she clutched her companies hand for the small comfort it offered. All around the doctor were women holding expression of worry and nervous apprehension about what was about to happen.

The young woman who was lying on the bed cried out in pain once more before the doctor placed a newly gloved, comforting hand on her pregnant stomach.

"Don't you worry, Ms. Daae, I will take good care of you now. What I need for you to do is to begin pushing…"

When Christine had begun to feel the contractions, she had been rushed to one of the largest bedrooms at the Opera dorms. The time had already passed for when the baby was due, and Christine had almost felt a wave of relief when things had finally begun to happen. But now, she was regretting even thinking this was a relief.

The pain had come slowly and steadily at first, but now it was taking over all of her senses, sending terrible shockwaves of pain all around her body. When the doctor finally arrived, she had been in such a bad state that she hardly remembered anything that happened. The doctor had told her to push...and she had, yet nearly fallen faint at the most crucial of times.

Her strength had finally come to its end when she gave one last effort.

The first soft cry from a child was a blessing that all should experience at one point in their lives. That miracle that was to be the creating of such unconditional love.

Christine remembered collapsing back onto the bed while she closed her eyes and heard those sweet moments of her newborns life. It wasn't till she heard someone gasp did she snap open her eyes again.

_No_ she thought_ not that…_

In her thoughts, something had always plagued her mind over her unborn child. What would Fate choose for it, the path of opportunity and a free life? Or that of ridicule and hiding in shadows? It all depended on which parent the baby resembled…the mother…or father?

Christine's love for Erik was undeniable, and no matter his features, although tormented and twisted as it were, she could never let that become a barrier to her love. Yet although this un-judging character she held, she knew that a child brought into that world with such disfigurements was not bound for an easy life.

She sat upright, and looked anxiously over to the doctor who held her baby, and the girl, Meg Giry, who had been the one to gasp.

"Christine…" Meg looked over to her, and Christine looked back in nervous pretence.

"…he's beautiful."

Christine felt her heart leap, and could hardly think clear when the doctor came slowly over to her and place her child in her shaking arms.

"Congratulations Ms. Daae." He whispered softly. "It's a boy."

It had been a few hours into the night before Christine was seen fit to return to her room. She was taken back and left with her child, where a cot had been set up for her next to her bed. But tonight, Christine could not sleep. She remained sat up in bed, holding her baby so tenderly in her arms. The love she felt was overwhelming, she felt far too small to contain it all. The newborn shifted slightly from time to time, sleeping peacefully in the blankets it was cuddled in.

Madame Giry was watching over Christine that night, sitting in an arm chair opposite the bed. Meg had gone to bed as it was well into the night, coming early morning. Madame Giry smiled over at the new mother, who was gazing in loving awe at her child.

"Have you decided on a name?" Madame Giry whispered, as she felt anything louder would break the serene and pure atmosphere.

Christine shook her head.

"Not yet…it's been hard to decide really."

Christine's voice was broken and weak, yet it was gentle. They sat in silence for a while longer, both of them too scared to break the peace in which the child was sleeping in.

Through the silence however, came a quiet and distant knock at the door.

Christine looked up hopefully, and Madame Giry moved to the door to open it. She turned to Christine, who nodded. She opened the door slowly, allowing the soft candlelight to spill out into the corridor.

A tall, dark figure stood in the door frame. It was a man, bearing a mask on the right hand side of his face. He looked at Madame Giry with his piercing eyes, who stepped back solemnly and let him pass. The man moved slowly into the room, shifting his gaze to Christine who smiled serenely at him.

Erik paced, almost timidly towards the bed. His breath became short and his hands were shaking slightly. Christine beckoned him with her free arm, holding it out to him in a last gesture of ending the anticipation.

He finally rounded the bed, and looked into his lovers arms, where their child slept.

"Erik…" Christine whispered in an emotional voice of pure happiness. "This is our son."

Erik had to catch a sob that almost broke through. The baby boy was amazingly beautiful, against all his fears. The fears that the child would take on his own appearance, a disfigurement that he himself was born with, were now completely washed away. The two loves of his life sat on the bed next to him, and it was taking all the self control he could muster to not collapse into tears of joy.

Christine placed a hand on his arm, a small gesture which Erik felt burn his skin.

"Do you want to hold him?" She asked. Erik could not answer. He just nodded slowly.

Christine lifted the child slowly from her chest, and Erik bent over slowly to take him.

"Hold his head." Christine helped. Erik took his child while sitting on the bed with Christine. The baby felt like a feather in his arms, yet he could feel the tiniest of movements under his shirt, which made his heart leap every time.

Christine looked at her child, and then up to Erik, who was staring awed at the tiny human in his arms. She smiled, feeling her heart swell with so much love towards them both. She had seen the aggressive side to Erik, yet it all seemed to melt away in an instant as he held the baby so tenderly and lovingly.

She sat up and pulled herself up to him, kissing him softly, and again more deeply. Erik let her consume his senses, kissing her back gently. She smiled when pulling away, and rested her head on his shoulder while curling up into his side. She looked down at their child and stroked its head softly.

"What shall we call him?" Christine whispered, bringing her hand to her lover's cheek, running her fingers lovingly over the tormented features he was so brutally damned with. She could feel his form trembling slightly. He muttered something, which she didn't hear at first.

"A gift only fit to be sent from angels…" He repeated, gazing down in deep thought.

"…Nathanial."

Christine felt her heart warm to it instantly. "…A gift from Heaven." She whispered. "It's perfect."


End file.
